


Tell Me You Mean It

by LadyRiot



Category: Lie to Me (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Drunken Confessions, Episode: s03e05 The Canary's Song, F/F, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17839502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRiot/pseuds/LadyRiot
Summary: After Gillian saves Cal from the consequences of his actions once again, all she wants to do is forget. But she and Ria get drunk together in celebration and Ria's confessions push Gillian to reevaluate her feelings for her and make steps to repair her friendship with Cal.





	Tell Me You Mean It

Ria knew it was a bad idea to be here, sitting in Lightman's office and drinking his liquor with Foster. With Gillian. Nothing good could come of it, really, only embarrassment or regret in the too harsh light of morning. But Gillian was smiling in that way she did sometimes, when the world was perfect and the joy radiated in her body, and Ria couldn't help but be drawn in. Captivated. She wanted part of that happiness, wanted to be the laugh that mingled with her boss's and sounded like music. That's what she wanted. So she stayed.

They'd had a good day, she thought as she watched Gillian sink further into the loveseat. Her limbs were loose with drink and Ria had never seen her less tense. All giggly and dimpled. She deserved it.

“Saved his ass today,” Ria said. 

Like every other time. He seemed to be the centre of her world. It made her want to clench her fists tight or shake some sense into her. Because she was better. Gillian'd always been better than the people she surrounded herself with, even better than Ria. By so much.

“Force of habit,” Gillian replied.

Ria watched her eyes, bluer than usual, some emotion to them Ria couldn't place before she blinked it all away.

“What makes this time any different?” Ria asked, her voice dropping softer.

“Well,” Gillian paused. “This time he actually noticed. When I said I would get rid of the FBI once and for all, he said thank you.”

Ria saw her shoulders shrug, hoped it was a casual action rather than a subconscious indication of a lie. She’d pretend it was the former at any rate.

“He actually said that?” Ria laughed.

A minute tenseness crawled Gillian's frame.

“Less talk, more drink,” she said.

Ria giggled into the following silence and took a sip of scotch. She was lying earlier. Despite how smooth the expensive scotch was, it wasn't what kept her here. And somehow Ria felt it was a good idea to explain what was.

Ria took a pause. Gillian was frowning into her empty glass. Ria reached for it, shocking herself with the intensity as their hands brushed. She poured another scotch for both of them and returned the glass. Gillian smiled her thanks and took a silent swig.

Ria looked down. “I know he didn't say thank you.”

Gillian didn't respond, her eyes focused on a far off wall.

“So I'm gonna say it instead,” Ria said. “Thank you, Gillian, for everything you do. For the Lightman Group, for Lightman, for me.”

Ria stood up and walked closer to Gillian, perching on the arm of the couch she'd been sitting on.

“I know it was you who saw what I was doing as a TSA agent and convinced him to take a chance on me. And that you were the one who pushed him to teach me and give me a place here, a home, a refuge. It's you that makes it all those things. I think I'd have quit ages ago if not for you.”

She paused again to gather her thoughts.

“You're brilliant,” Ria said. “Not to mention, so hot you don't know what to do with it. And the Lightman Group wouldn't be half as successful without you running around behind the scenes.”

Gillian blushed cherry. She shook her head but didn't say a single word. Ria sat back down on the couch. She was too drunk to tell if Gillian was flattered or offended. Probably not offended by the fact she hadn't shown any disgust or said anything. But Ria wasn't exactly in a place to tell. She hoped she'd wake up hungover enough to forget. Or if she didn't, that she'd at least been drunk enough for Gillian to question whether she'd meant it at all.

Ria tossed back the rest of the liquor and leaned back into the couch. There wasn't much she could do about it now.

* * *

Gillian was sitting on the loveseat with her legs curled beneath her, watching Ria's breaths as she slept. Her chest rose and fell in a precise beat Gillian had the endless desire to memorize. But she wouldn't just because it would be weird, inappropriate. Ria was her employee. She'd been the one to pick her out, standing with her ex-husband in an airport but only seeing the beautiful woman with the powerful, and likely painful, ability to pick out a lie from someone's face.

It was bad enough to be trained and then watch everyone you love disappoint you. But it was another thing altogether to be a natural, to gain the ability through pain and trauma and live the rest of your life seeing the bad in people. Gillian didn't know how Ria could go through all she had and still have any warmth at all inside her.

Gillian stood up, casting one last glance over Ria's sleeping form. She flicked on the lamp as she passed and picked up the scotch and her empty glass. She picked her way across the room and out to the balcony. The air was warm but refreshing, caressing her skin. It filled her lungs over and over, the rhythm a familiar one. Gillian crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her hip against the rail. Here she could finally think without distraction.

She felt stupid as she stared at the few stars littering the city sky and wondered how much of life was really inevitable and how much was choice, how much was consequence. Her life would be so different if she had demanded thanks or apology ages ago instead of waiting around for it to be given freely. And maybe if she'd just asked for the recognition she deserved, it wouldn't shake her so much when someone gave it. Especially when it was Ria and she was shaken enough already.

Gillian sighed. Maybe she lacked the courage. Or maybe it was dormant somewhere deep inside her, suppressed by her father's every drunken word, her mother's every hollow excuse. She was supposed to be over that. She got the help and said her piece and still it came back up again after all this time. But she wouldn't let it stay, wouldn't let it rule her life. If she never asked for what she wanted, how could she ever hope to receive it?

Next time, she would ask. She would demand and accept no excuse. It was her business, too. It was meant to be a partnership of equals, not this unbalanced effort. So Cal didn't get to disrespect her anymore. At least not if he intended she stay.

She turned to lean her elbows on the balcony rail, setting down the drink and tumbler. She didn't need anymore. She was enjoying her body's slow shift back to equilibrium. She still felt a little vacant, a little out of body, a little too think-y, but not enough to entirely miss the giggly full-on drunk that could hardly control her own actions. It was a slippery slope she knew too well for someone who didn't spend much time on it.

It turned out Gillian hadn't lost the giggly after all. When she heard steps behind her and turned to see Cal sloping towards her in a construction hat all lit up in the darkness, it brightened her face into a grin and a little giggle slipped out. There he was, another star for her sky, probably the brightest cause looking at him could burn her like nothing else.

“I never realized there were so many stars,” she said, spreading her hands to show him the darkened sky behind her.

He watched her with a half smile of his own.

“There aren't,” Cal said. “That's my very expensive scotch talking.”

Gillian couldn't keep the grin from her face as she moved all wobbly towards him.

“Oh, you know, what's mine is mine. Render unto Caesar and all that.”

Cal's eyes glimmered. “Loker's earned his stripes, finally.”

Gillian leaned on his shoulder to pull off her slingbacks. She stepped back with a self-satisfied, cat-who-caught-the-canary look.

“The FBI, they won't be back,” she said, chest puffed up proud.

“That scotch was a gift from a very grateful client,” Cal complained.

Gillian smiled again. “Johnny Wheels was a client?”

“You've had a good day, haven't you?”

“And you're gonna thank me for it,” Gillian said. “You're gonna say thank you and I'm gonna stand here until you do.”

Despite all sense, she hugs him, wrapping her arms around his back and letting the friendly touch almost be enough.

“I'm waiting,” Gillian sang as she untangled herself.

“Thank you for cleaning up my mess, Gillian,” Cal said.

“I can't wait until tomorrow.”

“Why? What's tomorrow?” Cal asked.

“I get better looking every day.”

Gillian leaned close again, wrapped her hands around his shoulders and clicked off his light. She nudged them into a slow dance, every step measured so as not to crush his toes in her drunken clumsiness.

“It's not the right song,” Cal said quietly.

“Use your imagination,” Gillian quipped.

Instead, he began to hum. She recognized the song immediately. Their ‘I'm Sorry Song’, played in the times words weren't enough. He hummed only the chorus and let her go. She pulled pack, groped the floor for her shoes and stood victorious with them tangled in her fingers. Cal grinned at her and wound her arm through his.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “I'll drive you home.”

“I can call a cab,” Gillian protested lightly.

“No worries, love,” he said.

“What about Ria?” Gillian asked.

Cal started them walking back into his office.

“Well, we're not leaving her here.”

“Duh.” Gillian gave him a soft glare.

“You should wake her,” Cal suggested. “It's better you than me, for sure.”

Cal was more right than he knew. Ria was not his biggest fan tonight and she'd slept through his thanks, Gillian's forgiveness.

“Okay,” Gillian said.

She knelt by the couch, brushing Ria's hair over her shoulder so she could freely shake her awake. Ria grumbled and shifted onto her back, jaw still slack with sleep. Gillian shook her again, softly murmuring for her to get up.

She could feel Cal's eyes on her as Ria's finally opened and she was gifted a soft sleepy smile that almost made her fall backwards.

“C'mon,” Gillian said, standing and offering her hand. “Let's get you home.”

Ria leaned heavily on Gillian as she stood up. She had been very drunk. Gillian was somewhat worried she might upend her stomach on the carpet. Gillian grabbed both of their bags and then they wobbled together until Cal came up from behind to steady them with a hand on each woman's back.

“I'll drive,” he said softly.

They walked into the parking structure with slow care and Cal led the way to his car. He moved to help Gillian into the passenger's seat and realized she and Ria were still joined by the hand.

Gillian reluctantly dropped Ria's hand and took her seat, feeling the world spin for a moment.

Cal helped Ria in behind her and buckled her seatbelt for her. Then he took his seat behind the wheel and pulled out of his spot.

He turned back to Ria to ask her address, but she had already knocked out again.

“Just take her to mine,” Gillian said. “She can stay in the spare room.”

Call nodded. He wouldn't want to bring a drunken employee home to his daughter, so he wouldn't mind Gillian shouldering the burden.

They drove in silence after that until they finally arrived at Gillian's place. Gillian thanked Cal and released her belt.

“Let me at least help you get Torres inside,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

She got out of the car and opened Ria's door, leaning into the car to unbuckle her seat belt. Cal came around and helped maneuver her to her feet, half sleeping still. Gillian rushed ahead of them to go unlock her front door and hold it open for them. She disappeared up the stairs to open the door to the spare room and peel back the blanket.

She met them in her living room, winding her arm around Ria's waist from the other side and leading Cal up the staircase. Ria barely moved her feet and Cal dragged her more than anything, but they eventually made it to their destination and laid Ria on the bed.

Gillian peeled off Ria's shoes and pulled the comforter over her.

She turned and winked at Cal, leaving the room and flicking the light off, the door half open.

“Do you need anything?” he asked her.

“No, I'm alright,” she said. “Thanks for the help.”

Cal took the hint, finding his way back down the stairs. Gillian followed him, pausing to rest her hand on the wall and remove her own shoes. She placed them by the door when Cal got there, hands stuffed in his coat pockets.

“Goodnight Gillian,” he said, a little more weight to it than she could understand.

“Goodnight,” she replied, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Ria woke with a mouth full of cotton. Everything felt wrong and there was a low pounding between her ears. She pushed her hair off her face, looking around the room. It wasn't hers. It was painted in greys with bright yellow sheets and little yellow decorations. She looked at the clock to realize it was already past ten. She should be at work by now.

Ria spotted the water and aspirin left on the bedside table and sighed in relief. Perfect. She put the two pills in her mouth and gulped down most of the water.

She slid out of bed, noting she was still in yesterday's clothes. And,  _ oh _ , yesterday was friday and Ria remembered it in full. What she'd told Gillian, how drunk she'd gotten on Cal's couch with Gillian just a few metres away. It must be Gillian's house, Ria thought. And it made her fiddle with the end of her dress shirt, wondering if she'd embarrassed herself anymore. She could definitely imagine herself throwing up in Gillian's nice shoes or something.

Ria found her own shoes lined up at the foot of her bed and put them on. She would find her cell phone, call a cab and get out of here, hopefully with nothing more than a ‘thank you, bye’ for Gillian.

Ria crept down the hallway and onto the landing, taking a glance over the room below for her bag. She spotted it on the coffee table and started down the staircase. Gillian caught her eyes as she came through from the kitchen, two mugs in hand.

“You don't have to rush off.” Gillian shrugged, a shy smile edging onto her face. “Thought you might like a coffee.”

Ria stepped forward with a nod. “I'd love one.”

She restructured her plan in her head. Coffee, sanity, then home. She made her way to the sofa Gillian gestured towards. She sat down beside Gillian, the space between them calming her heart from its racing.

“I didn't know how you took it.” Gillian smiled apologetically, her face flushing as Ria caught her eyes. “I can get-”

“-No, it's alright,” Ria insisted, reaching out to take the hot ceramic mug offered to her. 

She smiled reassuringly and took a careful sip of the freshly brewed coffee. It was good coffee, bitter and refined, probably pricey.

“Thanks for yesterday,” Ria said.

Gillian dropped her glance into her coffee cup.

“It was nothing,” she said.

“Well, thanks anyway.”

Gillian nodded her acceptance, taking a long drink from her own mug. Ria watched her throat work and glanced upwards as she lowered the mug, softly biting into her lip instead. She was remembering, clearly, and Ria didn't have to think to know what about. All the things she said, no matter how true, she hadn't meant to share them, not yet or ever. Not when they told Gillian far too much about the way she felt about her.

“You okay?” Gillian asked. “Hungover?”

Gillian's voice was softer than before, breaking any sort of facade before Ria even had the chance to construct it.

“I've been better.” Ria laughed. “But I'm okay. The aspirin helped. You?”

“Surprisingly, I'm alright. I think we finished most of the bottle.”

And there it was. Ria inhaled deeply. That was the silent question - the ‘did you only say what you did because you were incapacitated?’, the ‘did you mean any of it at all?’

Ria shifted, sipping at her coffee. She knew Gillian would see it as stalling, but she didn't even care. There were so many ways it could all go wrong or be misconstrued. Wouldn't Gillian know what it all meant?

“Really?” Ria said, smiling amusedly. “It didn't seem so much.”

Gillian's lashes fluttered. They were both silent for a beat, just quietly evaluating the other. But what else could Ria say? Admit outright that she meant every word? That when Gillian's smile lit up her whole face, she wanted nothing more than to taste it?

“I… yeah, it didn't feel like a lot.”

“No.” Ria smirked, daring to look Gillian straight in the eye.

Gillian shifted but refused to tear her eyes away. 

“I had a good time, Ria. Thank you.”

“You deserved it,” Ria replied.

“Ria…” Gillian trailed off, lost for what to say next. Or perhaps how to say it.

“Yes,” she said.

She said it like an answer, not question nor prompt, responding to what had yet to be asked but was floating in the air anyway.

Gillian shook her head in disbelief.

“You don't know what I was gonna say.”

Ria laughed at Gillian's expression, jaw low and eyes wide.

“It doesn't matter exactly what you were asking,” Ria said. “Because you knew instantly what I was saying yes to.”

“Can I ask anyway?”

“I guess I could manage that.”

Gillian grinned.

“The things you said,” Gillian said, looking into Ria's eyes with a nervous shift. “I wanted to know if you meant that at all. Because I really appreciated that. And I want you to know that I feel the same way about you.”

“You think I'm so hot I don't know what to do with it?”

Gillian blushed quick. Stumbled over the next set of words.

“Well… I wouldn't word it quite like that but, yes, I suppose I do.”

Ria grinned, then a moment of seriousness swept over then both.

“And I think people don't see you for all that you are, all you have to offer,” Gillian said.

Ria stared at her until she broke her eyes away.

“I did mean it, Gillian. And if it's something you're open to, I want to try this.” Ria gestured between them. Then she shrugged. “If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. And we go on. But if I can help it, I'd rather not go on without you.”

Gillian's eyes were blown wide and intense in their blue as she processed the thought.

“God, do you rehearse this stuff?” Gillian asked.

“No, but I do think of you.”

“It won't be easy,” Gillian threw out. “I  _ hired _ you.”

“Yeah,” Ria said, careful to keep her balance on that rope between hope and disappointment.

“It's going to take some getting used to,” Gillian finally said. “But I'd like to try?”

Ria let a smile steal over her under Gillian's careful watching. She wouldn't see anything. Ria wasn't afraid. Not of this.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” Gillian asked shyly.

Ria pretended to give it thought as if neither of them already knew what the answer would be.

“Yeah.”


End file.
